


Strawberry Fields Forever

by buckys_bitch



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Child Neglect, F/F, Half-Canon Compliant, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jschlatt is Toby Smith | Tubbo's Parent, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, President Toby Smith | Tubbo, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Traumatized Toby Smith | Tubbo, Wilbur Soot is Floris | Fundy's Parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:14:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29931900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckys_bitch/pseuds/buckys_bitch
Summary: Atychiophobia (n.): fear of failure; fear of not being good enough.Schlatt’s dead and Tubbo has to deal with accepting loss and running a country. He can’t do both.
Relationships: Tubbo & Ranboo, Tubbo & Tommyinnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot/Jschlatt (past)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 40





	1. Living is Easy With Eyes Closed

Schlatt’s funeral was a small one. Everyone who was in attendance did not stand for him, they stood for his son, Tubbo. Tommy, Wilbur, Philza— they all were there to console the crying boy. Dream was there to rub it in. 

“That was a nice funeral, wasn’t it?” Philza asked quietly. The brothers were looking down at the filled in grave. His arm was thrown around Tubbo’s shoulder, but he was asking Tommy. 

“It was right for him,” Tommy nodded solemnly. They’d all tried to forget that he was going to kill Schlatt either way. 

Wilbur stood off to the side, looking around. There were only a few gravestones here and there, hidden from sight in a forest grove a ways away from L’Manburg. He eyed Dream suspiciously before returning to his gazing. 

Tubbo was crying. He sobbed into Philza’s shoulder, trying to drown out everything he was hearing. 

Dad’s not dead, dad’s not dead, dad’s not dead. 

“He’s gone, buddy,” Philza Whispered. He squeezed Tubbo tighter. 

The younger boy wiped his eyes on his arm. His hands let go of their insatiable grip on Philza’s shirt, dropping to hug him back. 

Tubbo didn’t say anything. He was convinced his dad was playing some sick prank on him, and that when he got home, his father would be waiting for him in the living room, asking for a beer. “Did I fool ya?” he would say, and Tubbo would laugh and laugh and laugh and say, “no, dad,” like a liar. 

“Let’s get you home, huh?” Tommy asked, reaching for his best friend’s shoulder to peel him away from Philza. 

“I need to speak with him before you take him back,” Dream said. He had made his way over from the farthest grave in the cemetery. 

Everyone eyed him up. He’d had the decency to put on a nice mourning suit. He had his cane, so his hip must’ve been bothering him. His mask was in need of repairs, so he gave it to Techno to fix up for him. In the meantime, he was wearing an eyepatch over the eye that had a scar running through it. His long hair rustled in the harsh wind. 

Philza and Tommy scowled deeply at the man, but they walked away without another word. They knew better than to argue with Dream. Ranboo didn’t have much other choice than to follow. 

Dream stood next to Tubbo in silence while the others walked back to L’Manburg. They stared down into the freshly tilled earth, barren and empty in all capacities. 

“He’s finally gone,” Dream said. “Do you know what that means?” 

Tubbo looked up at Dream. He was scarier this close. 

“I have to learn to move on?” Tubbo asked. 

“No, god, don’t make me laugh. You’re president.” 

“What?” Tubbo demanded. “But— Wilbur!” 

“Wilbur’s mentally unable to run a country in the way Tommy can, but Tommy has this ‘civic duty’ to get his discs back. Who does Wilbur trust second best? Tubbo Schlatt. It’ll happen. I’ll make sure it happens.” Dream’s mouth formed a solid line. 

“They’ll accuse me of hereditary dictatorship,” Tubbo said.

Dream finally looked back at him. “Learning the big words, are we?” 

Tubbo sighed. He looked away, then up to the presidential portrait of his father. He looked back, unsmiling and strict, just as he always was. 

“They won’t. They’re trying to fix this place anyway. They’re too busy to worry about a child.” 

Tubbo didn’t say anything. He was going to accept Wilbur’s request to make his father proud. 

Tubbo remembered when his dad won the election. That night was the happiest he had seen his father since his mother had left when he was very young. 

“We won!” Schlatt had shouted. Tubbo remembered his dad picking him up and swinging him around the room, parading him around to all the campaign people Tubbo didn’t know. He recognized Quackity’s face, and Fundy’s, but not really anyone else. The two of them were talking to each other quietly in the corner, away from everyone else. 

Tubbo didn’t really remember why, but his father sat him down on the ground. He stalked over to Quackity, pointed a finger in his face, and demanded he go outside. 

Wilbur walked up to Tubbo, effectively distracting him from what was going on with his dad. “Congrats to your dad for the win!” Wilbur said with a smile. Tubbo never knew him to be without a smile. 

“It’s exciting, isn’t it?” the child asked, almost petulantly. Looking back on it made Tubbo’s mouth fill with vomit. 

Wilbur’s smile faltered. “I lost, Tubbo.” There was a defeating beat of silence, punctuated by Schlatt’s angry tirade outside. “But nevertheless, I hope it works out for you.” 

Tubbo gave a genuine smile to Wilbur. He should’ve known better, should’ve been on a higher guard. But it was Wilbur, and Wilbur would always be a warm hug, and Tubbo was a child. What could he have done differently? 

Tubbo left alone that night. His father was done making himself hoarse, but he said that he had other business to attend to, and that Tubbo should just go home alone. 

As he got himself ready for bed, he tried his best to stay up for his father. Tubbo wanted to make sure that he was safe, even if he was acting drunk or otherwise inebriated. It was hard for the little ram to keep his eyes open, as they burned and ached, but he knew that if they closed, he wouldn’t be able to see his father.

After what felt like hours, the slammed front door shook Tubbo’s bed. Schlatt stomped up the stairs, standing in his son’s doorway. 

“Tub, are you awake?” he asked quietly. 

“Mm,” Tubbo whispered, finally letting his eyes flutter shut. 

“Go to sleep, big man,” Schlatt chuckled. Tubbo peered one eye open to see his dad’s backlit frame move to close his door. 

Tubbo must’ve zoned out, as when he looked around, he stood alone in his family plot. 

He stared down into his father’s grave. The dirt on top had turned to mud, melty and black in the torrential downpour. His suit had melded to his body making him shiver in the cold. It was dark in the cemetery plot, but L’Manburg looked bright and warm a ways away. 

“I’ll see you soon, dad,” he whispered to the ground before turning on his heel and making the trek back home. 

He walked himself home that night. He got himself dinner, put on his pajamas to get warm, and put himself to bed. 

Tubbo’s door creaked open slowly. His father stood there, the outline of his horns and broad arms blocking out the light from the hallway. 

“Goodnight, dad,” Tubbo said. 

“Goodnight, son. I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed this !! as always, comments and kudos highly appreciated :)


	2. Misunderstanding All You See

Jonathan Schlatt was a politician before anything else. He could be a wonderful lover, a handsome devil, or a conniving partner, but he was always focused on the end goal: manipulating the law. 

That’s not to say he wasn’t a good father. He was, in Tubbo’s opinion. Given the circumstances, that Tubbo never met his mother and didn’t have many other parental figures that Schlatt approved of, his dad was doing pretty good. 

When Tubbo was young, there weren’t many other children around for him to play with. Sure, Tommy and Fundy were around, but they played together already and Philza was holding a grudge against Schlatt for some unknown reason. Schlatt made time to play with Tubbo, to make him feel wanted. 

They also didn’t have very much money, but Schlatt was very good at putting food on the table. Once, he had said, “If there’s one thing I’m going to do, it’s feed my boy,” handing Tubbo a stolen apple. The vendor chased them almost all the way home that day, but Tubbo didn’t know any better. It was a game to the five year old. 

When Schlatt first started making it in the government, Tubbo wasn’t sure what to think. All of the sudden they were moving to a nice neighborhood in the city, they were having vegetables at every meal, and the two of them were spending a lot of time together on day trips. 

That didn’t last very long. Schlatt would get lazy, and forget to pay the bills. The water and electricity would be shut off for days on end. He’d forget to make dinner and then order a pizza at 8 even though he put Tubbo to bed half an hour later without eating. Instead of picking Tubbo up from school, he’d get drunk and pass out in the entryway of their apartment. 

Wilbur became important to their family when he found out that his brother’s best friend didn’t always have clean clothes. He was invited over to their house, and since Schlatt was passed out in the couch, Wilbur brought him over without a second thought. 

Tubbo grew up in that countryside home with Philza, Technoblade, Wilbur, and Tommy. His height measurements were marked up on the pantry doorway next to his brothers’, there was an old cot fashioned in Tommy’s room for him, and there would always be a place at the table for him, no matter what happened. Phil had promised. 

Tubbo thought on his family a lot that first night after the funeral. Schlatt was loving, and caring, but so was his other family. Schlatt protected him from everyone, even himself, but Phil could provide. It was tearing him up inside. 

With the new presidency being thrown upon the town, Tubbo was constantly busy. He had to be in contact with all of his cabinet-elects, write his welcome speech, and deal with the murmurs of uprising since his nomination. Through all of that, he still managed to see his father every day. 

Phil frequented the office, making up excuses Tubbo was meant to believe. “Oh, I left a picture here ages ago, when Wil was here... while I’m here, let me help you—.” Tubbo didn’t mind all that much, though. Phil was always more father-like than his own dad. 

Tubbo tried his best to complete a peaceful transition of power, but with Tommy’s behavior and Dream’s unwillingness to cooperate, there was a lot to deal with. 

“You can’t go in there—,” Tubbo heard his secretary, Purpled, say outside of his door. The door knob turned harshly, but it was locked. There was a sharp knock on the window. 

“Coming!” Tubbo announced, rushing to the door. 

When he opened it, Dream stared down at him, mask on. He was scarier that way, In Tubbo’s opinion. Dream pushed past Tubbo and went to sit in front of his desk. 

“Can I help you?” Tubbo asked. He didn’t sit down. 

“I think you made a mistake, granting Tommy and Wilbur their citizenships back,” Dream said calmly. 

“Why?” Tubbo pressed. 

Dream turned to look at him. “Tommy’s been nothing but a nuisance since he came back. Haven’t you noticed? He’s wreaking havoc everywhere, Tubbo. That doesn’t look good for you.” 

Tubbo thought for a moment... he fiddled with a glass figurine on the table in front of him, one that was probably his mother’s. “What does Wilbur have to do with this?” 

“He blew up L’Manburg. He’s a former president. Come on, Tubbo. Think,” Dream said. “He doesn’t deserve it.” 

Tubbo turned around so fast he dropped the figurine and it shattered. “Wilbur is dead!” he exclaimed. He stomped on the glass for good measure. “Don’t ever bring up his name in front of me again.” 

“I’m just saying,” Dream held his hands up in self defense. “Then you have to deal with Tommy.” 

Tommy’s exile announcement was short. It was an executive order, revoking the citizenship and right to own property from TommyInnit. There was nothing the cabinet or the legislators could do. 

When Tubbo returned home, he was met with a hug from his father. 

“Hey, bud. How was work today?” Schlatt asked, rubbing his son’s shoulder. Tubbo just hummed and sank into the comfort that was a hug from his dad. 

“Terrible. Dream won’t get off my case,” Tubbo groaned. He pulled away to look up at his father to see a proud grin on his face. “What?” 

Schlatt chuckled. “My boy’s a real politician!” he exclaimed, heading to the kitchen to grab a beer. Tubbo rolled his eyes. 

They were quiet for a second. There was a peace in hearing the cap of Schlatt’s drink springing off the wall-mounted bottle opener. There was a comfort in the way Schlatt wore his pajamas instead of a suit, something Tubbo usually only got to see once a year. 

“Wilbur told me what you did for him today,” Schlatt said, taking a swig of his beer. 

Tubbo was shocked. “What did I do for him?” 

“He kept his citizenship when Dream told you to take it away,” Schlatt nodded. “Brave.” 

“Well, it’s not as if he needs me to say anything.” Tubbo rolled his eyes. “I had to exile Tommy.” 

“Things happen,” Schlatt shrugged. “If you’re trying your best, that’s all that matters.” 

Tubbo slumped into the warm embrace of his father’s arms. “What would I do without you?” 

Schlatt barked out a laugh. “I’m not sure. You’re lucky I’m here, aren’t you?” 

Tubbo nodded and pressed his face further into his father’s chest. The faint scent of expensive cologne washed over Tubbo, and it made him tear up. The house had become so cold recently.


End file.
